Fire at the Orphanage
by PokeyMokey
Summary: Max has been living at an orphanage for as long as she can remember, but what will happen when she realizes that not everything that her guardian told her is true? And what if the safe, familiar orphanage isn't what she had thought it was?PLEASE REVIEW!


_**Pre - Face**_

The flames burned higher, licking at the wooden beams, at the roof, at the walls. Screams echoed around me, so loud and agonized that it tore at me. My eyes were stinging and watering so bad that it was like I was crying. But I never cried.

"Max!" a little voice screamed, thick with tears and pain.

My head whipped to the side, but the smoke was too thick - I couldn't see anything. "Ali? Ali, where are you?" I demanded, stumbling my way over to what I thought was the corner of the den.

"Over here." she said, her voice cracking. I heard her sharp intake of breath, and then she broke into a fit of loud, dry coughs.

Just then, when I was sure I was right in front of her, maybe only a foot or two away, an earsplitting crack filled the room and Ali screamed as one of the beams of the roof broke free, the room alive with the sound of sizzling flames and burning embers. I only had time to look up before the wooden beam filled my vision and suddenly it was on top of me, charring my skin, suffocating me. I tried to breathe in, but the weight of the bored was too heavy, and a sharp, stabbing pain radiated through my chest. Smoke trickled down my throat, up my nose, and then I was coughing uncontrollably, Warm, wet liquid was trickling down over my temple, and into my eyes, and it was then that I became aware of the throbbing pain in my head, and every other part of my body.

"Max!" Ali screamed.

She emerged from the smoke like in one of those cheesy movies when someone's dying, and they hallucinate their dead loved ones appearing out of a fog and coming toward them, telling them it's time for them to go or something. The only difference was, I wasn't hallucinating, and Ali wasn't dead. Yet. Her long auburn hair was peppered with ashes, her face smudged with black, and tears were streaming down her round, red cheeks. Her clothes weren't in much better condition.

"Max!" she repeated, sobbing as she dropped to her knees next to me.

"Go!" I rasped, coughing and choking on the smoke.

She shook her head at me, unable to speak, and reached out her hand.

With pain searing through me, I lifted my arm as I high as I could and slapped hers away, shoving at her with all of my strength. "Go! Get out of here! Now! Just go!" My voice broke on the last word, and I turned away as my shoulders heaved with the force of the cough.

When I looked back. . . She was gone.

I let my head fall back onto the ground, trying to figure out which was better to breathe through - my nose or my mouth - when I heard the scrape of boots over hard wood floor, and heard the sizzling crunch of someone stepping onto a pile of burning embers. I tried to turn my head, but the position I was in kept me from doing so.

And then suddenly, one hand was resting on my head, the other on my arm, which was twisted at an awkward angle beneath me.

"Don't worry. I'll get you out of here."

_**Chapter One**_

With a yell, I bolted upright, panicked, only to realize I was in a dark enclosure that was definitely not burning. My room smelled like it always did - sneakers, worn and new, deodorant, and, well, like me, but it also had a flowery smell, like lilacs and roses. The digital clock that stood on my end table read 5:30. Well, I'd be getting up in an hour anyway, so might as well get up now.

Sighing, I kicked my blankets back, and padded over to the door, but not before checking on the bundle in the bed across from mine. Ali was sleeping just fine, the blankets wrapped securely around her and pulled up to her chin. I was surprised that my shout hadn't wakened her, but then again, she was a deep sleeper most of the time. After placing a light kiss on her forehead, I slipped out into the hall and made my way to one of the six bathrooms.

Anne's house was huge, but it was basically a farmhouse. And it had to be big if she wanted to run an orphanage. My parents were killed in a car accident a long time ago. I was the only survivor, and because both my parents were the only children in their families, I didn't have any other relatives to go live with, so I got stuck in Anne's Orphanage. Not that I'm complaining, I mean, things could be a heck of a lot worse, but it would be nice to live with my own parents, let alone remember them.

I took my time in the shower, thinking that maybe I would make a habit of getting up this early because it was always hectic and crazy when everyone else was up. It was nice to have some peace and quiet in the morning. After I got out and towel-dried my brownish-blonde hair, I went down stairs and into the kitchen, eager for breakfast.

Anne was busy at the stove, making scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, -did I mention that I loved her?- but she looked up when she saw me pass to the fridge, already dressed and ready for school.

"What are you doing up so early, Max?" she asked as she dumped the pan of scrambled eggs onto a plate that was already full of the fluffy yellow deliciousness.

"Bad dream," I replied, pouring myself a glass of apple juice. I took a long drink as I stared out the kitchen window, watching as the sun slowly rose, turning the horizon a beautiful blend of pinks, oranges, and reds.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked, flipping the bacon over.

I shook my head. "No. I should probably go wake the others up, though."

"Good idea. I'll set the table."

I nodded and went back up the stairs, pushing open doors as I passed. "Up and at 'em, everyone. Time to get ready for school."

One of the boys, who's name was Chris, threw a pillow at me. He should've known better. Sighing, I picked up the pillow, and after a moment's hesitation, I flung myself onto his bed, straddling his back as I beat him in the back of the head with his pillow.

Travis, who was Chris's roommate, bolted out of his bed the second he saw my ruthless attack. "I'm up, I'm up," he'd said before dashing out the door.

After a few more relentless minutes, I held the pillow over my right shoulder and looked down at the fifteen-year-old boy beneath me, who had curled into the fetal position the second he'd felt my weight on him. "You give?" I asked, slightly breathless.

Slowly, Chris peaked one brown eye out of the crook of his elbow, which was folded over his face, and nodded. "I give. Not get off."

I glared.

"Please?"

"That's better." I tossed his pillow onto the mattress and jumped back onto the floor, then flickered his light a few times. "Get ready for school, Christopher, unless you want a round two?"

He sat up, the springs of his mattress squeaking beneath his weight, and shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. One round is too much. Thanks for the wake-up call," he said sarcastically.

"No problem."

Getting up everyone else was a little less eventful, but there was a lot of yelling and tugging blankets off of unwilling bodies. I saved Ali for last, and when I opened up the door to our room, she was already up, tugging a brush through her long, auburn hair, completely dressed in our school's lame uniform.

"Oh, well, don't you just look adorable?" I asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and smoothing out her collar.

She turned around and smiled. "Thanks, Max. You look pretty, too. But your hair's all ruffled."

"Sex hair!" one of the boys, Logan, yelled as he ran past our room.

Grabbing a stray sneaker, I darted out my door, and threw the shoe as hard as I could down the hall. It nailed Logan right between the shoulder blades and he stumbled against the wall, howling in pain. "What was that for?" he whined.

"No using the 's' word around the younger kids, Logan. You know the rules," I said.

He scowled at me as I turned and walked back to my room.

Ali was sitting on the edge of her bed, sifting through her back pack, probably checking to make sure she had everything. "You didn't have to do that, Max. I know what sex is."

My cheeks warmed slightly at hearing her say the word, and I picked my own bag up off the floor. "Yeah, well, you're ten, you shouldn't know. And I don't want to hear you say that word again until you're twenty, got it?" I demanded, only half joking.

Giggling, Ali slipped her hand into mine and nodded. "Got it."

"Good, now let's go eat. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

She rolled her eyes. "You're always starving, Maxi."

"Touche."

About a half hour later, all of us piled into Anne's huge van, dressed and ready to go with our stomachs ready to burst from our filling breakfast. It was 7:00 now, which meant that we had an hour and ten minutes to get to school, which, thankfully, it only took us an hour to drive from Anne's farmhouse out in the country and into town.

But having ten kids in one van, and at least half of them grumpy and tired. . . Well, let's just say it wasn't fun.

Right now, Logan and Travis were arguing about something that happened one freakin' week ago, and Madison and Lily were stressing -and fighting- about who had the better fashion sense. They were twelve for crying out loud! Melanie, who was only a year older than Chris and I, was sitting in the passenger seat of the van, listening to her ipod, so at least she was being quiet. Jesse and Chase, who were ten and eleven, were talking animatedly about a comic book series, unintentionally shouting with their excitement, and Jason, being the annoying jerk that he was, was throwing little wads of paper at his twin sister, Paige.

Poor girl.

Ali, her cute little face scrunched up with annoyance, looked up at me, her pale green eyes pleading. "Can you please make them be quiet? They're making my head hurt."

"Sure, honey. Cover your ears."

Smiling, she obeyed, and I stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled as loud as I could which was pretty dang loud.

"Ow!"

"Hey!"

"Yo, what the heck?"

"Yow! You couldn't have warned us first?"

"Yeah, Max, a warning would've been nice," Anne said from the front seat.

I turned around to see her rubbing her ear with one hand, the other firmly gripping the steering wheel. In the rearview mirror, I could see that her face was all pinched with pain, and I realized that since I was right behind her, the whistle would've been louder for her.

"Sorry, Anne," I said, "but everyone was being too loud." I gave the other kids a meaningful look and was satisfied when the youngsters dipped their heads.

"Oh, boo-hoo," Jason snapped, flicking a wad of paper at me. "Does poor Maxi have a headache?" he taunted, snickering.

I shifted forward in my seat, and Anne, catching the movement in the rearview mirror, said, "Max, please wait until you get to school. This van is too small for rough-housing."

I smiled and leaned back. "Sure thing, Anne."

Jason, realizing that he was going to get beaten either way, shrank back into his seat and cussed under his breath.

I kicked his shin. "Watch the language, idiot."

Giggling, Ali slapped me a high five.


End file.
